Of Tea Leaves and Fathers
by BetterThanCoffee
Summary: Zuko realizes his uncle was more of a father to him than Ozai ever was. [Post-ATLA]


**A/N: Spoilers for "The Search." While reading it would help understand just a tiny bit of this, it isn't entirely necessary.**

"I'm so glad the Fire Lord could take time out of his busy schedule to visit my humble tea shop."

Zuko quirked his remaining eyebrow at his uncle's cheeky grin, before his vision was obscured by an apron being thrown at his face.

"Fire Lord or not, you can still help me with customers."

Zuko grinned internally as his tied the apron around his slender waist. This act was familiar to the fire bender. The sound of tea bubbling, the low rumble of conversations, and the smell of ginger and jasmine was comforting. With all the pomp and circumstance of being the Fire Lord and living once again in the palace he was raised, nothing quite felt like coming home than stepping foot into the modest tea shop known only as The Jasmine Dragon. The tea at the palace never quite tasted right. Perhaps it was not the tea at all, but the man who brewed it.

The young Fire Lord let himself get swept up in the rush of serving tea, sweeping, and chatting with customers. Ba Sing Se had just gotten itself back together after the Fire Nation take-over, and yet if an outsider was to peer at the people milling around this little shop, they would have never guessed that just a few mere months ago, the lives of every single one of these people was thrown into chaos. It was inspiring to the young firebender. If the wounds of Ba Sing Se could heal just as quickly as their walls could be rebuilt, then perhaps the Fire Nation could redeem itself to the world after all.

Here in The Jasmine Dragon, Zuko was not looked at as the ruler of an entire nation, but rather the shop owner's nephew. "Handsome nephew," one of the shop regular's would always supply. Whether they were aware of his true identity or not, it did not matter. He was just here to provide his uncle's excellent tea.

There was a point in Zuko's life where his only ambition was to have the avatar in his grasp. He craved power, absolution, and honor. He thought he craved the home he knew as a child, but that home was broken. His mother, his pillar of strength, was long gone – chased away in a desperate attempt to save her only son. Left was only an abusive father and a vindictive sister. When Zuko was finally welcomed home with open arms by his father, it had felt empty. No amounts of luxury could seal the wound that had been festering since the day his mother left him with a man who would ultimately mutilate his eldest just to prove a point.

Once Zuko finally found his mother once again with the aid of his friends, the young Fire Lord believed he could once again find peace. Home is where the heart is, and his heart had been with is mother ever since she stole away in the middle of the night so many years ago. Yet, when he found Ursa, she was living comfortably in Hira with her new husband and child. She had a brand new family and a brand new life. There was no room left for her son.

Even though his mother was happy, she only found that happiness in abandoning all memories of her old life – of him. Zuko was discarded once again like a scrap of trash caught in the breeze. His father didn't want him, his mother rid herself of her existence, and Zuko was fighting a battle every day with his own people in order to regain balance after the war.

Erasing one-hundred years of propaganda and ire was no easy task. The people of the Fire Nation had to re-learn that they were not greater than the whole of the world. Sitting in his father's war room – now renamed The Meeting Hall – Zuko never felt more alone than when the dignitaries of his nation were screaming at each other from across the table. After all, Fire Lord or not, he was a mere child, a fact that the senior staff would not take easily. To them, he was just a little boy playing dress-up with his father's clothes.

Now, when Zuko was burdened by long meetings as the Fire Lord trying to restore a nation broken by a century of war and hatred, he wanted nothing more than to find respite in his uncle's cozy little tea shop. Just hearing his uncle's hearty chuckle over a well-brewed pot of tea could bring a smile to the teenager's face. His uncle had an almost sixth sense when it came to his nephew, and whenever Zuko was feeling his lowest, Iroh would greet him with a cup of tea and a warm embrace. The moment the elder's arms wrapped around him, Zuko would wonder why he ever felt alone.

For years, through the good and the bad, his uncle had stood beside him. The day after his mother left, Iroh had visited the young prince for a talk. Zuko had refused to listen to a word his uncle said, and promptly kicked him out with a second thought. Now, that memory brought Zuko shame. The death of Iroh's son, Lu Ten, was still new – still raw, and yet his uncle had put aside his own pain to try to bring his nephew some comfort, and the boy had just cast the man aside. No matter how much Zuko had pushed, Iroh had remained by his side. He was with the prince during his banishment, during his wild goose chase after the avatar, and even when he betrayed the man who had given him so much. There was no way Zuko could ever properly thank his uncle for all he had done for him, but he would try, so if that meant serving tea in his shop, then so be it.

Zuko's past was so full of strife, that sometimes it felt that all the emotions bottling up inside would make him explode. Like a tea pot ready to boil over, all the sorrow bottled up, and unless there was a release, everything would come to the surface. For a while, Zuko thought his release was fulfilling his destiny by bringing down his father and ending the war. Yet after the dust cleared, the prince still felt overwhelmed. Now Zuko realized watching the people he cherished be happy in their lives was enough of a release. Zuko helped paved the foundation for happier lives, and seeing his uncle satisfied with his simple life with his tea leaves was the exact release that the fire bender needed.

Zuko was still not allowed to brew tea in his uncle's dear establishment – Zuko had learned his lesson that this was not his true calling, yet he tried to help out where he could. Re-lighting the coals and fetching refills was enough. His uncle had taught him that they were to anticipate their customer's needs before they arisen. Spying a near-empty sugar bowl at a few tables, Zuko leaned into the kitchen to holler at his uncle, "Hey Dad, we need some more sugar out here, pronto."

Everything stopped. The sound of the tea bubbling and conversations were replaced by a loud roar that had swelled in the Fire Lord's ears. Of course Uncle Iroh was always more of a father to Zuko than Ozai ever was, but Iroh already had a chance at being a father, and he had lost his son. Zuko did not have the right to call such a wonderful man by such a presumptuous title. All the air left Zuko's body. He could not speak to take back his near-sighted comment, all he could do was wait with baited breath for his uncle's response.

"Sure thing, son," Iroh winked at his nephew before roughly pulling him in for a hug. Before Zuko had a chance to respond, Iroh whisked off with sugar in hand, leaving Zuko gaping like a platypus-bear waiting for a fish to jump in its mouth.

Zuko was about to brush the whole experience off as a fluke and get back to work, before he managed to overhear his uncle conversing with one of his regulars.

"Dear Iroh, have you been crying? Do you need to sit down?"

"Nonsense, my dear. Some steam just caught my eyes, is all."

Zuko let out a quiet chuckle, before picking up a tea tray. The sound of tea cups clinking and laughter played out like a glorious symphony. A warm breeze drifted in from the windows, carrying the scent of newly blossomed flowers. The customers were happy and his uncle was smiling. Perhaps he should try to make it home more often.


End file.
